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“Yes, it is. I know the owner.”
Of course, he did. Must be another one of his many fans. As if he only had to snap his fingers to get his way, the door of the boutique opened, and a stately, attractive woman dressed in a designer dress stood at the door, smiling. “Axel, it’s so nice to see you.”
“Mrs. Jones, you’re looking as lovely as ever.” He walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek. Apparently, even older women fell under his spell. Did he sleep with her, too?
“Thank you, and you know you can call me Danielle. I already pulled some dresses for you.”
“Great. This is Natalie,” he said, and I waved awkwardly, still amazed at all he had accomplished this morning without my knowledge. I guess I could see how people were easily sucked into the world of Axel Thomas. Self-assertive indeed. “And Danielle is my coach’s wife.” He winked at me as if he knew I was wondering how they knew each other.
“Come along, dear. I have a dressing room set up for you.” She led me to the back of the store, to a small room with gorgeous dresses draped on hangers.
“I’ll take it from here,” Axel said, lingering by the room. Was he going to come in here and help me change? And why was I here, looking at dresses? I knew they would be too expensive.
I glanced down at the tag on the pale pink silk dress beside me. One thousand dollars? I couldn’t afford this. I drew my brows together. “I can’t afford to pay for this.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Wordlessly, I flipped through the tags on the other dresses that were just as expensive, if not more. “Are you gonna try them on or not?” he asked.
I shook my head and finally came to my senses. “I can’t.” Nothing about this felt right, and I was fooling myself to believe it was.
“Why not?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what we’re doing here.”
“Is it not obvious? I thought you were a smart girl—magna cum laude material and all that. I’m finding you an appropriate dress for the formal.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Neither one of us knows or likes each other that much, so you can stop with the fairy godmother act.”
He raised his brows, and an impersonal smile spread across his lips. “Fine by me, if that’s what you want. You’re here because you owe me a favor. This is part of your debt. Now pick out a damn dress before I do it myself.”
I tilted my head in disbelief. Any stranger would’ve seen a pleasant man who appeared to be an amicable person. However, something seemed unnerving as I studied his mesmerizing dark eyes. There was a hardness as if an invisible shield was drawn and nothing could affect him.
It was weird that I thought this, but I couldn’t help but shake the nagging feeling that something was off. Who was I kidding? This whole situation was off. I hit his car, and he was making me go to a formal with him because I was too scared to face the music with my parents. In a sense, he was doing me a favor. So, I closed my mouth and complied, yanking a hanger off the hook and slamming the curtain closed in his face.
My teeth clenched as his raspy snickers scraped my nerves like fingers on a chalkboard. I yanked my hoodie over my head and slipped off my sweats. I left on the pale blue T-shirt that read,I’m hardcore now!in block letters, with the usually sunshiny character Bubbles fromThe Powerpuff Girls,who was angry and scowling with her teeth gritted. My shirt also had a giant coffee stain on it, but I was in too much of a hurry this morning to sort out whether I’d picked out a clean shirt or not. At least it didn’t smell repugnant. Small victories.
I unzipped the pink chiffon dress and slid it over my head, adjusting the thin straps over my shoulder. It was a beautiful dress. More beautiful than any dress I’ve ever owned, not including my saris. I hated to sound cliché as the words flowed in my head, but I did begrudgingly feel very princess-like in it, despite the pale blue shirt I wore underneath and Bubble’s eyes glaring at me like I was failing her in some way.Don’t judge me, Bubbles. You don’t know the shit I’m dealing with right now.
I heard the wisp of fabric move behind me as a large hand curled around the curtain, pushing it aside. “You dressed?” Axel asked.
Despite being fully clothed, I gripped the curtain, trying to keep it closed. “Wait!”
“Stop stalling. Let me see.”
My silence apparently spurred him to slip inside and yank the curtain closed behind him. Oh, my god. The confines of the space were small, and he was a muscular giant compared to me. The air grew thick as I glanced at him through the mirror hesitantly.
His eyes met mine in the mirror. Unreadable. “Turn around.” He motioned with his finger.
My cheeks felt hot, and I turned around cautiously, careful not to accidentally touch him in any way.
“I already told you I don’t fucking bite,” he murmured under his breath.
“I’ve never done this before,” I whispered lamely, staring at his brick wall of a chest.
“You’ve never done what before? Tried on clothing in a dressing room?”
I shook my head, despite knowing he was making a joke. “I’ve never tried on a dress this expensive or had a guy buy a dress for me. I’ve…” Why did word vomit decide to surge up my throat at this moment? I shook my head before I said anything else. “This is too much.”
